The War Council convenes

[Larke]

OOC: Considered to be held after the events of Aesir's sacking and anything else people have in mind for their characters. All posts shall be done IC*

Within the crumbling remains of the Aesirian Keep the Commanders of all the Ordio Legio's forces have convened to discuss the next move to be made.



*In Character.

[Larke]

Victus' masssive bulk sat on the stone steps leading from the Keeps courtyard to the interior. Gigantic maul rested across his lap as the commanders bickered amongst themselves over where the armies should move next, prisoners marked the armies of man for Victus sake. The Blue auras indicating the position of cites and forces, the Ordio Legio was marked with red auras of soldiers. Standing at his side was Layla, she whispered in his ear everything that happened.

"Shut up!" he bellowed, tired of the bickering that filled his ears. The red hue surrounding the Courtyard flared as some of the Commanders took it as a scolding.

"Will someone not find us a plan that can work? While brute strength perhaps is what the Ordio Legio has in surplus. But times have changed and Human forces have advanced technologically, we cannot survive on old tactics to break the humans this time.” He lent back content to listen to a more organised discussion take place, Layla touched his shoulder and whispered the descriptions of those who had not taken to his speech well. Many minor commanders were listed, he gave her names for her to write down. Those would be the first to assault the next city, and hopefully fail.

[dogaro]

Dinari felt the gathering of forces within the city, a stronger force shone to him above all. He knew that this would be an important figure. Rest had revitalized him and he used his recovered energy to raise himself into the air he flew, uncaring of watchful eyes, his stealth would end. Looking below him, he saw eyes of the human soldiers, traitors to their kind, staring at him. Lust shone in their eyes as the went over every curve of Dinari's angelic form. Looking at the men, he saw a small few whom he would see again, should he survive his encounter with the war council. He would definitely have fun with this lot.

Flying lower, he landed just outside the keep, making sure to cover himself and his mind in a web of magic. Should any consider him a threat, he needed to be able to turn, and possibly defend himself. His wings melted into his back, leaving him with the look of a naked feminine man (save for a red loincloth that accentuated his form), all but irresistible to any whom looked upon him, the epitome of perfection.

Walking to the inside of the keep, he saw the commanders of the armies that had taken this city, and also the powerful force he had felt moments ago. With an angelic voice, he spoke to the creatures and men, saying the words, "I, Dinari, of the eastern lands where men dwell not, offer my service to you, legion of darkness." He did a low bow of loyalty, before kneeling and waiting for their recognition.

[CptNemo]

Sirius watches as the new man entered through the double wide, oaken doors, and turned to Victus to see his response. He merely shrugged. He found it curious how Victus seemed so different now; of course he could not claim that he had seen a soul walk into hell, only to be spat back out.

And what of this human he has been toting around? She was pretty…for her type, but her honest purity reeked. Whatever Victus found in her, Sirius did not know.

He snapped back into reality to find a pair of lesser figures squabbling over something or other. Victus was lent over in his massive throne where the female whispered into his ear, not paying any particular attention. Victus was right, the tactics of old were not going to work this time, such was proven with Aesir here. Without careful planning, an effective siege, and decisive attacks, they would not even make it to Lucis.

“Perhaps,” Sirius interrupted, his voice calm and frail. That was another thing he noticed now. The lust for battle was no longer with him, or at least as powerful as it had been. There was an edge to his mind, a softness that made him uncomfortable on the battlefield, as if is reflexes were not as keen as they used to be. Perhaps a cursed life was finally taking its toll on him. Or maybe it was even simpler than that; it was time.

It was true, there was no point in denying it. He was old. Even if he tried, he couldn’t muster the images of his younger years, and if they came, he couldn’t pick the real ones from the dreams. But one memory he knew was etched in stone forever was the human catherdral nearly four hundred years previous where he, Olis, Victus, and S‘dala had spent the night after a day of slaughter. He remembered the smell of roasted poultry as Victus turned it on an open fire at one end of the room. Things seemed so simple back then, and he wished he could just visit them once again. Even if it was only for a second, he wished that he could be back with his companions in the small, crumbling church.

After the war of course, things were never the same. The group never experienced such a closeness that had formed there that night. Olis, for one, hardly made an appearance, and Victus, a totally different man now. Things were never, and will never be the same. And as fast as the memories came, the weight of a question pressed hard on him. Why? Was this all a game, a sick game between two angry gods? He couldn’t help but to feel used.

Someone coughed, and he snapped back to present time to find the generals staring at him, even Victus who waited patiently.

“Perhaps…we should go for reinforcements,” he quickly made up to cover his tracks, though he did not even know where they were leading. A murmur arose in response.

“And from where do you think you could gather another force large enough to contribute any service?” came a voice from the far end of the chamber.

Sirius thought for a moment. He did not want to be around the coming battle, he did not care for it. In fact, he was only doing this for Victus, he thought. He owed so much to the man, he couldn’t let him down.

“I will go to the Dead Lands.” Laughter, a half cackle half hiss, came in reply.

“What makes you think anything dwells there! The land has lain in blackened soot and ash for ages! Nothing can possibly live within.”

Sirius nodded, “So you have been there for yourself, have you? Have you rode past the crumbling walls of Cesmir?” There was no reply. “Well I have! It is not the place you wish to be! No matter how damned our forces may be, there is nothing that can compare to what lives in the dead forests, the windswept streets of Caliburn, in the shadows of the mountains! These creatures…show no resemblance to the race they used to be. Wicked and twisted they are, with multiple sets of gangly limbs and eyes peering out at you from places that shouldn’t even exist!”

Sirius sat back, venting his frustration through deep and ragged breaths. Nobody spoke.

“I will go if need be.”

[Larke]

Victus looked at the place of Sirius voice, a soul that burned half the light of the others rested there. The names of places so long ago, Cestmir and Caliburn. Victus had been there along with Sirius and S'dala, had felt the sting of defeat as the humans broke the back of the Ordio Legio with them. The taint left on those places would have condemned any creature that inhabited them to twist into abominations against reality, it was the reason Man had fled to the east and erect these new Kingdoms. If there was anything there he was confident Sirius could muster them, and his winged friend seemed to have another reason for this.

"Then it is settled, War Master Sirius shall go to the Dead Lands and muster what he can." Victus snarled as the crowd of Commanders began to argue again.

[thecampheretic]

Lelron could hear the murmur of raised voices behind the door. He had walked up to the conference chamber with the intention of lending his knowledge to the cause, but now he heard the bickering he wondered if his time would be better spent back with his prisoners. Still he was already there so there was no loss in trying.

He wanted to attract attention as he entered and, judging how easily the demon had been accepted it would require more than just his appearance. Slowly he laid his hand against the hinges of the door. As he worked the ritual the wood around the metal started to blacken, smoke rose and it glowed dully then was liquid. The nails and bolts which held it in place oozed to the floor and the door fell into a pile of smouldering planks.

Silence fell as he strode in. He was mildly surprise by Victus’ new form but he lacked both emotion and substance to show it so he was confident that none knew. Returning his eyes to the assembled and concentrated. Age and the ravages of the demon had robbed him of his ability to speak but there were other ways. For a moment he thought before deciding against a mental link, his demonic side objecting to such proximity to Victus. Instead he vibrated the air of the room making his voice come from everywhere.

“I know of tactics and as the oldest among you I shall take your ears,” he didn’t wait for any talk as he continued, “The humans have grown in strength and, though we still easily hold the edge in power, numbers and the individual skills, we are feeble compared to their sciences and modern tactics. Their troops are organised and follow orders,” he cast his glare to a few in the room, “Their engineers are more numerous and better equipped, their mages weaker yet much more numerous. If we are to win we must play to our advantages.

“So I propose the following strategy. We send a placebo army to Idor and begin a siege. This will draw reinforcements from the other garrisons, primarily Jio as it is closest and has traditional links with Idor, to retaliate and lift out army. The main of our force shall seep though the Dark Lands, picking up any available reinforcements, and will strike the depleted garrison at Jio. Once Jio is fallen Idor is cut off and shall soon follow.”

There was a murmur then a commander stood, “That is as my be but with our army split any counter attack will be a disaster for us.”

Lelron turned to the man and he stopped. Again Lelron filled the air with his voice, “That is where Sirius comes in. I believe you are willing to go to the dead lands?” the warmaster gave a curt nod, “Not even I am entirely certain what you will find there but I believe you will find something. You shall raise what you can and hit Kemperbad. It matters little if you take it only that you pin down more of the human army keeping it from hitting us.”

He paused then added, “Go with a trusted few. It may be of use to you to know a little of the darker arts if you wish success.”

He sat to await the outcome of his words. He would wait for someone else to suggest the Legio’s greatest asset…

[squiggle]

“And who will lead this ‘placebo force’. I was unaware we had the men and resources for such an empty venture?”
Haaken shouldered his way through the throng of minor commanders until he approached the inner circle. He was dressed in full battle attire; heavy boots, armoured vambraces and a well-crafted mail vest. The great hammer Gunlaug was strapped across his back and a short sword was sheathed at his waist. His brown hair was wild and unkempt, fiery brown eyes staring out of his lined face.

Haaken looked around, staring hard at any that met his gaze. “The Legio has long lingered in the Dark Lands, cowering from the light of human expansion. Now that we have finally emerged from our enforced exile you propose we give the forces of men yet more time to prepare?” He spat onto the ground, his voice thick with anger. “Has this siege taught you nothing? As their mighty siege blasted holes in your forces did you not think you had underestimated them?”

He shrugged vaguely, suddenly calm. “They know we are here. Soon they will scorch the land and retreat to their cities, which as your scouts will tell you, are well stocked. Either we strike hard and fast, or you may as well return to the wilderness for another four hundred years.”

Haaken grinned at the perturbed gathering from beneath his unkempt mane. “But it is of no matter what I think. I will lead this placebo force whilst you bicker amongst yourselves and avoid the real reasons that you are here. Give me five thousand soldiers and I will take Idor within a week.”

He stared straight at Victus, brazenly seeking approval.

[thecampheretic]

Lelron held the newcomers gaze.

"The scorching has already began. Do you think they lay idle as you bungled the siege? There will be no food outside any cities before tomorrow sundown. Not that this is any problem to me.

"As for a placebo force, we have prisoners do we not? Were our human forces to have any control we would have more. A small force can be made to look big that way and doubtless some can be... persuaded to join us. As for its leader, that is not my affair. Marching on Idor will reduce garrisons elsewhere. We must not turn to brute force in this, it has failed you once. We cannot afford to throw men away lightly."

Inwardly he smiled as he finished, "I do however agree about not allowing them time, we should decide within the hour and break camp then. As you said we have no time for looting and enjoyment of captives. Now I have more important work to be doing."

He left though the wreakage of the doorway back towards the main camp.

[squiggle]

Haaken smiled grimly as the Lelron left the council; he had heard of the mage's power and had no wish to challenge it…yet. He looked around him. “So it is settled then? I need a fast force and as many slaves and captives as we have. I will launch a lightening assault on the city of Idor and regardless of success or failure, this will buy time for the rest of our forces to encircle and city and usurp these humans.”

He looked around, his eyes aflame with passion. “Who will join me in this most heroic quest? Balphegor? Dinari? Seph?” He shrugged once more. “It is of no matter; we will march upon the human lands and we will be victorious! For the Ordio Legio!” He raised one fist in the air and then turned and left the council, the cheers and hoots of his peers clamouring in his wake.

[anarchyangel]

Bane and Sable watched the council bicker from a dark corner, both moody and silent. Bane still felt shaken and weary from his stolen frenzy, but he was on his feet with plenty of slave blood quenching his body - he would be strong again soon. As he rested against a heavy staff for balance, he looked down at his ferocious creator every now and then, listening vaguely to the power hungry fools around him.

Sable stood forebodingly beside Bane, his black, skinless form causing the nearby beast-men sergeants to back away slightly; he almost couldn’t blame them. The daemon spawn let off a restrained but still chilling aura of terror and the soulless, molten depths of his eyes swirled with spite as they glared over every general in the room. Bane was proud to have been re-born by such a terrifying creature; it fascinated him that he now owed this daemon his life twice over. It was a heavy debt, but he would find a way to repay it, he was sure.

For now though, he would listen to the council argue.

A fierce thing named Haaken stood in front of the War Masters right now, looking sternly around himself and demanding followers to join his placebo force. Bane struggled to concentrate on the murmured discussion around him over the pain his body still registered. It was difficult to focus on talk when his ears still rang with the dragon’s thunderous attack.

With a surprised glance, he saw Sable shift forward arrogantly, swaggering into the center of the room and past the departing Haaken.

“If you think that warriors can be summoned fast enough from the dead lands for this attack, I think you will be sorely mistaken.” Sable hissed, his eyes flaring between molten silver and cold fire as he spoke. Bane watched the interaction with interest. The War Master Sirius leaned forward in his chair at hearing this, looking down on the daemon spawn with calculated thought.

“Why do you say this, spawn?” The War Master asked.

“I say this because I lingered in the dead lands for a very long time, War Master.” Sable said, running a long talon over one of his antlers as he whispered. “The creatures there do not enjoy leaving the territory that they have secluded themselves in for so long. You will be… hard pressed, to get them to leave. However, I have a solution, and one that would hasten this process if you will listen.”

Sirius gave a curt nod and the room, which had briefly erupted in an outburst of muttering ceased. Bane smiled at that; enjoying the lack of noise that hurt his head.

“I have kin living in the Dead Lands,” Sable continued. “We contact each other every now and then to cause havoc among villages in the name of our chosen god, Azaroth.” The room went drastically cold as the name was spoken aloud; Sable kept on going as if nothing had occurred.

“I and my kin share certain powers between us; we can summon ourselves to each other others location so long as there is water nearby. And we can take others with us… With this teleportation, which is limited to take only a dozen persons perhaps, I suggest I take you personally with my apprentice Bane and a few warriors of your own choosing, into the dead lands. My kin hold sway over some of the creatures in that cursed land so it would make the task faster and more effective.”

Immediately there were outcries of protest.

“A dozen troops in that land is not enough! You will die and leave us with one less War Master, idiotic Spawn; it is foolish.” One sergeant yelled.

A sharp, terrible glare from Sable caused the sergeant to choke suddenly, paroxysms shaking him to the ground as images of incoherent terror ran through his mind and tore his heart to pieces. Sable hissed in menace.

“One of me is more than enough of a defense, foolish beast. Now, what say you War Master?”

[Larke]

Victus listened as the Commanders and powerful warriors argued, Layla whispered actions and gestures made by those that spoke. Victus felt a tug against his conscious far to the North East, he ignored it as the Demon Spawn made for the centre of the floor.

“Victus, release your mind. Allow me to show you.” Layla whispered as she placed her hand in the centre of his palm, a bright light surrounded him as he felt his spirit leave his body travelling the thousands of miles to the Fortresss Evraine. His vision was no longer obscured from him, he marvelled at the colours of the world, for as long as he could before he found himself passing through walls of the fortress.

Deep within its walls was the burial chamber of Prince Evraine, dozens of priest’s chanted ancient words of power as they swung braziers that gave off a sickly smell. In the centre of the circle of priest’s was a large stone sarcophagus; the top was raised depicting a sleeping man. His sword and shield resting atop his chest and a crown on top of them, Victus had not seen the face for more then four hundred years since the defeat of the Legio.

Bright white cracked from the sides of the tomb, the air buzzed with power as something powerful was brought to life within the burial chamber. Victus glanced to his left looking at the face of supreme beauty that was Layla’s, golden hair flicked as though a powerful gale blew it. It was then that Victus realised a pair of white feathery wings protruded from her back, she simply turned to him and gave a weak smile before nodding back at the events before them.

The sarcophagus exploded in a shower of Masonite that passed in-between the chanting priest’s, a ball of pure energy rolled in its place midair. Slowly something passed out of the round surface, forming an oval shape at first before human features began to appear. Eyes of crystal blue glared right at Victus and Layla, hatred filled them with intensity like none other, a nose formed and then a thin mouth. Its lips parted as a neck and body began to emerge.

“Victus.” Instantly his spirit was snapped back to his Demonic body as Layla let go of his hand, his Demonic sight returned to him as he realised all eyes had focused on him. Layla stood calmly next to him, her pure white soul glimmering. But any trace of her angelic features was gone.

“Evraine.” He uttered, the room quietened at the name of the Ordio Legio’s bane.

“What about the son of a whore?” someone shouted.

“He has been reborn beneath his Fortress.” Victus explained, there was a roar of shouting and accusations. Victus ignored them, his gaze was fixed on Layla. “Prepare and do what you must. I have other matters to attend to.” Victus said turning back to the assembly, he climbed to his feet. Lifting Layla as he did so and stalked from the chamber, her whispers guiding him as ever.

[CptNemo]

Curious. Very curious. The Savior of Man has returned, how would Victus know such radical developments? And to bring a man back from the dead would require magics beyond any of mages gathered here. True Bloods, powerful True Bloods, and a damn many at that. He turned his attention back to Sable.

“You can arrange this teleportation?”

The beast nodded. The room stilled buzzed with chatter, and he made a motion for them to quiet.

“If this information is true,” he paused. “If the Savior Evraine has indeed returned, then we shall march at once. Let the troops rest for this night only, for tomorrow we ride for Idor!” Sirius said, slamming one fist into the opposite palm to add emphasis.

Looks of renewed hope and anticipation came across their faces.

“By the time our army reaches Idor, Sable and I will have gathered an army worthy of taking Evraine itself!”

The room was raving by now as they threw up cheers and battle cries for the Ordio. Sirius motioned for Harlem, his second in command, to join him as he followed Sable and Bane out the double doors and into the quiet antechamber. The boisterous voices of high spirited commanders slowly faded as they made their way down a winding stone step, and out into the dark courtyard.

[Larke]

Victus listened to the cheering of the Commanders as sound passed from the courtyard and down the winding path of the Aesirian Keep, Layla guided him around piles of corpses left on the rampart and rubble that had fallen from the battlements.

Victus listened to her voice and followed her instructions, he stopped halfway down and lifted Layla from his shoulder placing her on the ground.

"Yes Victus I am an Angel." She caught the hulking behemoth off guard, he had planned to ask her about Evraine's chamber.

"Then why?"

"I am with you and your forces because i was cast out by Aeolus, I seek simple revenge against he and his followers now."

"Why is your Aura so pure? when you are fuelled by hatred. Surely to be removed from Aeolus grace you should be truely evil."

"Do not pretend to understand the Gods Victus, their actions are vague and they are never as they appear. I was cast from Aeolus' kingdom because i refused him, not in a physical sense of sex. He wanted my soul Victus, and i refused him. Thus I was cast from his kingdom and onto the plains of man, though I am not mortal i choose the body of mortal woman. Else your soldiers would have killed me in my natural form." Layla explained, Victus couldn't fully understand why a God would want one Angels soul. But he trusted her none the less.

[squiggle]

Haaken sat in the midst of his camp by a roaring fire. He had discarded his armour and was wearing just a simple sleeveless tunic, showing a complex pattern of scars down his right arm. Someone came trudging across the dusty ground towards him and he glanced up, smiling slightly at the lithe form of Angantyr.
“Just who I was thinking about. How are the troops?”
Angantyr grinned at him, lowering herself gently to the ground on the opposite side of the fire.
“Restless, but then they are always restless. I hear you have volunteered yourself to lead the attack on Idor. Are you sure that it is there?”
Staring grimly into the fire, it took Haaken some time to reply. “Yes Angantyr, it is there; it dominates my waking moments, hovering at the edge of my sight like a black cloud. Soon we will have regained our families honour and then we can concentrate on the important task of revenge.” Angantyr met his twisted smile with a nasty one of her own "I heard that some of the descendants of the thrice accursed King of Gautland are stationed in Idor, under the title of 'Truebloods'. I will enjoy killing them with my blade."

She shrugged briefly and then stood extending her hand to him.
“We have pondered here too long; let me show you some other ways of passing the time.”

Haaken grinned in the half light and stood, taking her hand in his. "And how would that be, sweet Angantyr?"

[Larke]

Victus and his tiny counterpart stood looking out from the ramparts of the Aesirian Keep, to Victus it still burnt from the tens of thousands of evil souls within its walls. A line of souls marched forth from the Dark Lands, the creatures emptying the lands of evil found themselves within Aesir and subsequently recuited into Companies and units. An organised army was forming below him, more then just a horde of warriors with a common goal.

Layla whispered in his ear, describing the crumbling city around them. To Victus the prize seemed hollow, it was but a mere single battle in the scheme of things to come. From Laylas observations the night was drawing in over the lands casting Aesir in shadows, the howls of victory feasts and drinking games echoed off the broken walls into the night sky.

The bridges had crumbled under the battles fought over them, leaving a dangerous crossing for any who wished to reach the other side of the river Irgaine.

"Bridges." Victus hissed, he hadn't thought of them before. Surely the retreating men would be razing every bridge they could by now. If they hoped to have any chance of reaching the remaining cities without marching north past Kemperbad to find an intact one, Layla placed herself in front of Victus letting him lift her up quickly and onto his shoulder.

"I'll find you Haaken." Layla answered before Victus could ask.